


Powerless Apparitions (ToTP Book 2)

by FeatherFang



Series: Tale of the Phantom series [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Friendship, Ghost Logs, Implied Sexual Content, Love, PTSD, Revenge, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29227578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherFang/pseuds/FeatherFang
Summary: The Red Legion has ripped them asunder. Cayde won't hide behind the word justice, he simply wants revenge for taking the one he loved away from him, and he won't stop until he's done so, no matter what it takes. Skylar is Lightless, but she refuses to believe she's incapable of getting her home back and finding the man she loves, lost among the stars. These are the Ghost Logs that tell their story. Cayde x OC, 2nd in series. Updates every Tuesday and Friday!
Relationships: Cayde-6/Female Guardian (Destiny)
Series: Tale of the Phantom series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139480
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Sundance Entry Log 198

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys! It took me two years but book two of 'Tale of the Phantom' series is here! Not only that, but you get two chapters today, and then I will be updating this story every Friday until it is done! Please be aware if you haven't read book one, you'll be a bit lost, but you're always welcome to read anyway. This one might be a bit different, it has been two years and things in my writing have changed just a bit, but I hope you still enjoy it .:) Without further ado, please enjoy the story and don't forget to tell me what you think!
> 
> You might also check on a short daily challenge I'm doing that gives you light-hearted moments about these guys that takes place between the two books. Check my profile for it: The Days In Between.   
> -Feather Fang

The room is dark, yet the sky is somehow darker. From where the camera sits one can see The Last City and the mountains beyond, a crackling storm of pitch-black clouds and dancing lightning descending upon them. Rain hasn’t started yet, but a boom of thunder rumbles in the distance, warning everyone of what was to come. Another crack of storm born electricity lights up the room briefly, drawing one’s eye to the other person watching the storm.

Skylar stands in front of the sliding door window that leads out onto a balcony, her arms crossed lazily over her chest as amber-orange eyes gazed distractedly at the storm. Her mind is elsewhere in the later hours of the afternoon. She seems completely at ease standing there almost completely bare to the world except for an awfully familiar sweatshirt zipped lazily over her torso. 

“You know, the view is much better over here.” At the electronic voice, the screen flickers once as Sundance blinks and follows Skylar’s movement to look behind her, back towards the bed that takes up half the space of the room. The hunter smirks slightly at the scene before her and the camera focuses on the sight of one very satisfied looking exo. He’s lounging on his side, the covers barely hiding his legs as he props his head on a fist, glowing eyes moving in a downward motion over his girlfriend. “I take it back,  I have the best view, not you.” He gets an exaggerated snort in reply to the comment and smirks. “Have I told you how good you look in my hoodie before? Especially when it’s  only my hoodie?”

The feed widens, capturing both hunters now as Skylar seems to make an effort not to roll her eyes or crack up at the overly dramatic words.

“Oh, once or twice today,” she assures him, looking him over in much the same way he had looked at her, before suddenly glancing over her shoulder at the window once more as the thunder rumbles closer. Her brows pull together with concern over something she’s thinking about and Cayde seems to know that too.

“They’re fine, you know,” he assures her, drawing her eyes back to him. “Corvan’s leading the team and it’s not like they’re the only fireteam out there.” Whatever they’re speaking about seems to be a revisited topic as Skylar blows out a breath and runs a hand through messy amber hair. She’s heard these words before, but doesn’t seem annoyed by it.

“None of us have gone to Africa before, I don’t think even Winter had…” she trails off suddenly as if knowing she sounds like a broken record and closes her eyes for a moment, completing the blue stripe across them once again. “I guess I feel like they’ll disappear too if I don’t keep an eye on them. Then again, that didn’t help last time so maybe I should-”

“We’ve been over this,” Cayde cuts in before she can start spiraling. “What happened with Winter and Tristan wasn’t your fault, don’t let Zavala’s emotional wedgie get to you.” The vanguard leader pauses long enough to push himself up into a sitting position, metal legs hanging over the bed and covers pooling at his waist. “We’re going to find them, Skylar.” There’s a promise in his voice that’s so believable that it in turn softens the human’s frustrated features, her brow relaxing as she looks at him. After another moment, her hand drops to her side, and she nods her head, finding reason once again. She’s too tired to fight on the matter and maybe she knows he’s right. Cayde’s eyes brighten at that, brow plate hitching up. “… now come here.”

Another flash of lightning spreads across the room, catching the smile on her face more clearly for an instant before she saunters over and into the space between spread legs. An ungloved hand brushes across her cheek, tracing her guardian marking with a thumb while the other rests over her hip, gripping onto his own shirt.

“I’m just glad you're home,” Cayde admits, the hand on her face brushing into her hair and moving it out of her eyes. A smirk twitches on her face at the comment and one of her own hands lifts her pointer finger out to poke him right on the tip of his horn like one might do with someone's forehead.

“You’ve already said that today too,” she muses, unable to hold back a grin as he huffs and tugs her even closer till her knees hit the bed. She lets her finger run down the front of his horn slowly and the exo responds by closing his eyes halfway, a low sigh vibrating through him. Skylar tilts her head, watching him in an almost content way before simply stating: “I missed you too.” It’s the last thing she gets to say before her mouth gets caught in a sudden, but expected kiss, the exo having drawn her head forward with a hand and biting lightly at her lips with mouth plates.

It's a quick mess of arms and hands and mouths then as Skylar cambers onto his lap and Cayde uses a hand to pull the zipper down on the hoodie and slip it inside. There’s a tension there, something bare and vulnerable about how they move. Long absences from each other leave one starved and needier than either really wants to admit. A bite on her exposed shoulder has Skylar rearing back, arc energy flicking across her hand that she presses to a bare metal chest to get the upper hand before pushing him down on the bed. He grunts, chuckling in surrender as she moves her way up to straddle him, leaning forward to rest her forearms on his chest.

“Guess you really missed me,” she teases, stroking a light charged knuckle down his corded neck. The exo curses and the hand still on his hip tightens as she presses a kiss to the side of his jaw, the flickering golden glow in his throat bathing her hair into firelight. Then, in one quick motion, she ducks her head and bites into the junction of his neck and shoulder, where the metal plating gives way to soft silicon and wires, and Cayde jerks, nearly bucking her off.

“F-fuck, Skyla,” his vocals sputter, his nickname for her nearly pleading. Lacing a hand into her hair and tugging her back, he meets her gaze. “I love you,” his admission is breathless, blue eyes brightening and Skylar smiles, her hand losing its glow as she presses it to the side of his face.

“I love you too.”

Thunders booms, much closer this time, and Cayde takes that as a signal to move, flipping them on the bed so fast all the redhead can do is squeak. The hinges of his jaw tilt up in a cocky smile as he looms over her, but Skylar seems perfectly at ease, her rumpled hair and lazy eyes displayed before him, completely exposed. With a simple flick of his wrist, the zipper is all the way down, the fabric falling to the sides to show an expanse of pale skin, marred only by the jagged purple lines below her ribs. He traces one with a gentleness one doesn’t associate metal with before returning his gaze to hers.

“I think we’re about ready for round three,” he quips, and Skylar just laughs slightly, shaking her head at him, but not stopping him either as he kisses her again, deeper and slower this time. His hands shift on the bed in a familiar position, ready to hold more weight -- 

A sharp beep rings louder through the feed’s speakers than even the thunder from moments ago, and Sundance blinks in surprise, making the image flicker. A red light blinks off to the corner of the screen showing an incoming transmission message. Both hunters look at the ghost for a moment and then Cayde shrugs it off, moving towards Skylar’s neck before another sharp beep has him pausing again.

“Sun…” The exo spoke out flatly, annoyed while the redhead simply lets out a long tired sigh. “Whatever and whoever that is, tell them to shove it,” he grumbles, a hand brushing Skylar’s side and making her twitch and bite back a giggle. Another sharp beep interrupts him from pulling the open hoody off Skylar completely and he sighs to himself, head dropping down to bury his face in her shoulder in both defeat and exasperation.

“It’s from Zavala,” Sundance’s voice is soft, calming towards her partner.

“Of course it is.” Cayde’s muffled voice is clearly unimpressed and seemingly unsurprised by her answer. The huntress under him, runs a hand over his head, biting her lip to stop from smiling at his dramatic actions. “If I had a strange coin for every time Big Blue cock blocked me Xur would be buried alive.” This time, Skylar did snort a laugh because obviously he was exaggerating. Sundance on the other hand, doesn’t seem very amused at all.

“He’s called a stage three alert. He is ordering all leaders down to the vanguard room immediately.” Lightning flashes across the windows of the room, painting the surprised and startled faces of both hunters in sharp shadows as they stare back into the feed frozen in place.

“Isn’t that…” Skylar begins, worry highlighting her voice and Cayde nods his head slightly.

“One stage below red alert? Yeah. Shit.” He pushes himself up into a sitting position, still straddling the mostly naked human and giving her a look that’s clearly an apology. Skylar simply shakes her head, sitting up as well and gently bumping her forehead against his horn as if to say ‘it’s fine’. 

“Time to get back to work,” she murmurs, pulling away after a moment and Cayde grumbles something low before pressing his mouth to her cheek and getting off the bed. He looks at her a moment before sighing again.

“I’ll need that back…” he gestures to the hoodie half on her and Skylar glances down then back up at him and wiggles her eyebrows at him playfully, scooting across the bed and out of the camera’s sight. He huffs, hands on his hips. “Sky…” A laugh, and then a moment later the cloth in question comes flying back onto the screen and Cayde catches it right before it smacks him in the face. Shaking his head, a smile etchs his face as he looks at the camera and slips the garment on. “Okay Sundance, give me the usual.”

The feed bobs as the ghost nods and then a bright light wipes the screen clean for a second as she transmats armor into place on her partner. When the image comes back the Vanguard leader is dressed and adjusting a strap on his shoulder armor. Nodding his thanks to the ghost he turns and picks up the Ace of Spades from where it lays next to another hand cannon on the nightstand. He double checks the ammo with a quick hand then spins it once and stows it at his side before picking up the other one.

The feed zooms in on the familiar piece of silver, copper, and black with the stylized heart printed on the handle. The Fated Hearts hand cannon, built from the damaged parts of The Fate Bringer and extra parts set aside of his own gun. Cayde gives it the same treatment as his own gun, checking it over as he turns back around, looking off screen.

“Ready to go?”

“As ready as I can be,” Skylar replies, walking back into the frame. She’s fully dressed and armed as well, her blue and silver get up all tied together by the glowing pulsing eyes of her chest plate and orange accented lines. She’s not wearing a helmet much like Cayde at the moment, but that could change quickly as her iridescent blue ghost floats on up to her and rests at her shoulder. Cayde looks her over for a moment before nodding his head and stepping closer, handing her the gun. She takes it with one hand, stowing it at her thigh and uses her other hand to brush it against the exo’s skull. Cayde leans into the touch, eyes closing slightly for just a few moments as her hand tracks behind him and then quickly pulls the hood of his cloak over his head moments later. He sighs once more, opening his eyes and giving her a look that can only be longing.

“Whatever is causing this alert is on my shit list,” he grumbles and Skylar smiles crookedly before gesturing for him to lead the way. His hand brushes her shoulder as he does just that and the camera feed swings around to follow the two hunters out of the room, their cloaks fluttering behind them as if the wind from the storm has drifted through the walls.


	2. Sterling Entry Log 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Tuesday and Friday!

“That all of them?” Cayde’s voice sounds through the mic first, the image flicking to life moments later. The Exo is front and center on the screen, the left-hand side of the view edged in a black hood and blue armor as the ghost sits at his guardian’s shoulder. The area they’re in is unrecognizable other than it’s somewhere in the tower, maybe a few stories down from the normally used areas. Wherever it is, it’s a wreck, broken and torn pieces of the walls and ceiling crumbling on the ground as fire dances wildly and randomly in the area.

The screen shifts, floating away from Skylar to get her in view as she looks around the area. Her armor seems scuffed up, a layer of dirt covering her as if she’s taken a tumble. “I think-” she begins and then stops suddenly before raising her hand in quick succession and firing her hand cannon directly over Cayde’s left shoulder. The camera shifts as the exo flinches, looking behind him to see a psion crumpling to the ground from where it had just turned a corner.

“Well, that was close,” the Vanguard leader mutters, looking embarrassed. His lack of field time is showing, and he gives his girlfriend a frustrated look that pulls at his plates and hinges a bit too hard. “Thanks for having my back.” He sounds grateful despite his annoyance, walking over to her, his hand still holding his gun relaxed at his side.

“Always will,” Skylar replies, her voice slightly muffled behind her helmet. She lays a glove covered hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, you already saved my ass a few times tonight,” she points out, turning to look behind them as Cayde nods. “You guys okay back there?”

“As much as we can be,” Zavala’s voice replies, and once more the camera pans away from the redhead to the unseen half of the room – which is more like a room with a hall since one of the walls is all but gone. The other two Vanguard leaders stand in front of a cluster of tower workers, all of which look dirty, hurt, and scared. Ikora brushes off the dust on the shoulder of her robe as she moves forward carefully keeping her voice down so as to not scare the group behind her.

“We need a plan and fast.”

“No shit,” Skylar replies, annoyed. “I get that these are Cabal, but do we know anything else?” She kicks at a dead dog-like creature at her feet that’s wearing red armor. “I’ve never seen them use animals before.”

“Me neither,” Cayde agrees. Zavala sighs, glancing around the room, checking the area once again, and then joins their little circle.

“From what my ghost has been picking up from their channels it appears they are called ‘The Red Legion’ or something to that effect. Cabal doesn’t translate well into any human language.” 

“Something about that sounds familiar,” Ikora murmurs, distracted, while Cayde shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter, they could be called the Blue Monkey Asses for all I care, what I want to know is how they got all the way to Earth without anyone seeing them and what they’re doing here in the first place.” That seems to shut everyone up for a good minute on the recording. No one has an answer to the first question, and it’s a huge blunder they might regret for the rest of their lives.

“The distress call,” Skylar speaks suddenly, drawing all three leaders to look at her. She doesn’t appear to be at all uncomfortable by the attention, but it’s hard to tell with a helmet on. “We originally found out about The Taken King because the Cabal set out a distress call – something they don’t do because of some honor code, right? So, whoever intercepted that call when it finally reached their home planet must have known something was up and…”

“And by the time they got here the dreadnought was adrift and so they turned their attention to the next meaningful threat,” Zavala finishes when she trails off. He doesn’t look happy about that answer, but no one seems to have any other ideas either. “In the end, the when and how are past at this point. We need to contain this threat as quickly as possible and-” he cuts himself off suddenly, a dull beep hardly caught by the feed’s mic with all the background noise going on around them grabbing his attention. The titan swings a hand up to his ear, listening to a com link set up through ghosts for a long moment before nodding. “Very well, send my thanks to them and have them do their best to quell the area.” His glowing eyes flash from Cayde to Skylar and stay there, making the huntress stiffen. “Stay at the rendezvous point as long as you can.” His hand drops shortly after and twitchy gazes land on him from all around.

“What’s up? Cayde asks first, shuffling slightly closer to his girlfriend, apparently having seen the look his leader was giving her. Zavala’s lips seem to thin as he frowns, but his tone stays as steady and even as ever.

“That was Amanda, she’s up in the air with a squad of Dead Orbit fighters right now. She believes they’ve found the main ship of the armada. It’s sporting a rather heavy shield on the engines, but if we can get that down the tower defenses will rip it apart.”

“And once the leader falls things should start going our way,” Ikora follows up, nodding in approval. “Did she see a way onto it?”

“Yes, a side latch on the back of the ship, not big enough to land anything there, but certainly good enough for a guardian,” as he speaks his eyes lock firmly with Skylar’s once more and it’s Cayde’s turn to stiffen. He seems about ready to object, apparently knowing where this is going, but a hand on his arm stops him and he looks to Skylar in surprise, giving the vanguard leader his chance. “Agent Falcon, I’m ordering you to meet up with Amanda on the left-most landing pad. Catch a ride up to that ship and board it; once you’ve disabled the shields have your ghost send the signal.”

“Wait a sec,” Cayde snaps, ignoring the hand still on his arm now. “You’re going to send a single guardian up there onto a ship full of enemies? At least let me or Ikora or someone go with her!”

“We are out of time, Cayde,” Zavala’s tone leaves no room for arguing but he goes on anyway, knowing the exo all too well. “The Vanguard has to do its job and make sure things go well down here and we don’t have time to contact anyone else.” He pauses a moment, waiting for an objection, but his teammate just looks frustrated that once again he has to send the person he loves off into danger alone. Ikora seems to understand, taking a step towards her friend to soothe him.

“She’s one of my best infiltrators, you know this as well as I do.” She speaks of Skylar’s role in The Hidden, a role the conqueror of The Vault has had for nearly two years now, the one that gave her the title Falcon as a call sign. Her gaze shifts to the hunter in question. “Aren’t you?” she asks, smiling. Skylar tilts her head slightly and then rolls her shoulders. 

“They don’t call me The Phantom for nothing,” she muses, the hand on Cayde’s arm squeezing slightly as if to assure him. He meets her gaze through the visor of her helmet and huffs before seeming to know he’s outnumberd and waves Zavala on. The awoken nods once in thanks to the huntress.

“While you’re doing that, I’ll try to meet up with Shaxx and get these people to safety.” He cants his head to the huddle of tower workers waiting behind them. “Cayde I need you to get to the tower defense and make sure they stay online till Skylar gets the shields down.” When the leader looks to the hunter in question Cayde simply nods his head, understanding his role and not fighting it, knowing he has to follow this through to a T for things to work out right.

“I’m going to make my way to the Speaker, we need to get him to safety at all cost,” Ikora decides without pause, before Zavala can even say anything. He doesn’t protest, either knowing she won’t budge on the subject or having already planned to send her that way.

“Right then,” he looks at the three of them, his gaze lingering on the hunters for a moment. “Move out as soon as you’re ready. Good luck Agent Falcon.”

“You as well, commander. I won’t let you down.”

The bald man smiles the tiniest of smiles.

“Hadn’t crossed my mind.” 

He turns military-style, and walks back over to the group of civilian workers, probably to get them ready to move. The camera flicks to Ikora as the warlock gives both hunters a meaningful look before turning her full attention to Cayde.

“Don’t get yourself killed too many times,” she teases, the words edged in a tension that the exo ignores, brow plate lifting and golden light flickering.

“Hey, we can do a tally when this is over, see who comes out on top.” He nudges Skylar in the ribs at that. “Start counting your kills. Loser buys the drinks.” He’s still looking at Ikora as he speaks, and the playfulness seems to ease some of the tension from her still limbs. Skylar huffs a small laugh, dropping her hand from his arm.

“You guys are so on.” The interaction is too sweet, too perfectly them for this battlefield that the tower had become. Ikora smiles wider and more easily than Zavala did.

“So be it then,” she agrees, and it’s suddenly apparent that this might not be the first time they would all be drinking together. After another few seconds on the feed, Ikora sobers and turns her sharp gaze to her subordinate and slowly raises her fist to her heart. “We are as the unseen,” she states the Hidden mandate clearly as a way of reminding her agent of the promises made:  _ Be safe, don’t be rash. _ There is a moment of silence, of considering and silent words passed between the two female heroes that speaks of friendship above ranking. Then, Skylar gives one slow nod and places a fist over her heart.

“It is my honor.”

The Warlock is off after that, not looking over her shoulder once as she blink steps through a punch-out hole in the wall and is gone from the feed. Skylar drops her hand just as quickly, turning to her distraught looking boyfriend who is trying to play it off as simply being attentive and failing.

“I’ll be fine,” she tells him, stepping in front of him. “We’ll get this all cleaned up and then we can pick up where we left off.” It’s a nice thought, a concept both probably want more than anything, but the sounds of battle and exploding buildings ruins that vision. It reminds them that while they found each other - have each other - the Traveler didn’t bring them back so they could have peaceful, joyful lives. It brought them back to fight. Cayde, with all his years, seems to understand that better than anyone. So instead of arguing, instead of trying to find some way out of this, he does the only thing he can. The exo simply reaches out and pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and pressing the side of his head into hers.

A moment of stunned stiffness filters through Skylar, but it passes before two seconds have passed on the timer and she relaxes, draping her arms over his shoulders and returning the hug, something they probably don’t do as much as they should. Cayde hums quietly and closes his eyes, gloved hand clenched into the hood of her cloak. A few moments of comforting, ever eclipsing stillness covers them, caught up in the warmth and sureness of each other’s touch.

“Be careful,” is all he asks of her, some part of him realizing maybe that she’d never been in a fight like this. Everything has always been planned. She’s always gotten into her ship and traveled to her mission. He doesn’t comment on the small tremor that twitches through her arms and shoulders, picked up on the feed’s carefully focused gaze. The huntress nuzzles her head into his in response, her expression hidden under her helmet, but her hands find purchase in the fabric at his back.

“Just be here to lead me back home, and I’ll always come back to my comet.”

His arms constrict harder for a moment, before slowly, with all the effort in the world he lets go, Skylar pulling away. There is a darkening in Cayde’s blue gaze and Skylar just looks back at him, meeting his gaze through a darkened visor. He swallows and then somehow, manages another grin that wrenches his jaw hinges.

“Kick those space turtle butts Skyla.”

A small laugh muffled and strained, but Skylar still seems to agree, taking one final look at the Exo before turning away. She makes her way out the same hole that Ikora did and just as she reaches it, she glances to the feed and it stutters, the ghost blinking and then emitting a gentle whirring sound as bright light engulfs the screen and Sterling joins with her helmet’s HUD, flicking off the Log.


	3. Sundance Entry Log 199

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Happy Friday! 
> 
> I won't keep you long, I just wanted to thank those who have read so far and any readers from book one who have returned: welcome back!
> 
> Don't forget you can come ask questions and get extra content on my Tumblr: https://featherfang.tumblr.com
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

The camera flickers on with a jagged skipping beep accompanied by octaves of static and Sundance’s own pained chirp. It’s pretty clear from the way that the feed goes in and out of focus that perhaps the recording isn’t meant to be on, but after a few tries, the ghost lets it continue, focusing the lens back into clarity. What greets any watcher is a scene out of a war film. The area around them seems to be what is left of a building, an entire wall missing, the guts of it carved out and scattered. Water drips in uneven patterns from the gaping hole, the weather outside still misting with the leftover storm. There’s a bright light beyond the drizzle and smoke billowing through the air – or rather it’s the source of the smoke. A bonfire’s flames lick at the open air over a pile of black charred shapes, undeterred by the water as it reaches up towards the sky.

The feed flickers as the Sundance blinks and the feed shifts, panning away from the opening as she searches for something – and finds it with a sudden halt.

Cayde is a few feet away, sitting up against the battered remains of a sturdy counter that at one point might have been the store's check out area given the surroundings, his feet drawn out in front of him. His hood is up, head slanted down as if he’s asleep, his arms cradled in his lap. A small sigh echoes over the mic as the feed zooms in, the ghost floating closer. Only a foot away, as Sundance rises slightly higher up, it quickly becomes obvious the exo is certainly not asleep, the glow of his optics clear now as he stares down at his lap with an unfocused gaze. His hands are not really cradled in his lap either, but rather they are cradling something.

The hand cannon is unmistakable, despite looking like it’s been beaten with a hammer, the copper paint scratched up, and metal dented on the chamber wear a stylized hair is punctured. Skylar’s primary gun, The Fated Hearts, and Cayde doesn’t seem to see anything but that. He’s not moving, hardly breathing and it leaves one to wonder if he truly is awake or not.

“…Cayde?” Sundance’s voice is but a gentle whisper on the mic, but it might at well have been a scream. The hunter comes back to life in an instant, his head jerking up, and optics blinking rapidly. Off to the side of the camera, his hand has moved toward his belt where a knife and his own gun are, but he stills it as quickly as he moves, recognizing his partner.

“Sundance?” his voice holds a note of disbelief, and a relief so feverish it’s disheartening. “Was beginning to think you’d never turn back on. Glad to be wrong for once.” He sounds downtrodden, with a soggy sarcasm so unbecoming of him, his ghost seems momentarily phased by it, jerking back slightly.

“What happened?”

The exo stares at his partner for a long fifteen seconds on the clock before he shakes his head and gestures out into the drizzling, burning world.

“Take a look for yourself.”

The ghost does just that, the feed shifting back towards the gaping opening which only expands this time as the little AI moves out into the world once more. The feed gets splattered with a drop of rain as it points upward, blurring the lower left corner of the image, but the view still gives the watcher an eyeful. The part of the city they’re in is nothing but ruins, the starting edge of a crater not even a block from them can be seen where a shopping center once was. Half the sky is covered by an enormous ship – the flagship for certain – its strict and sharp lines menacing among the ash-heavy smoke and distant cries of victims caught up in the siege.

The other half of the sky is what the feed comes to a sudden stop at, the whirring gasp of Sundance scraping against the mic. Though the Traveler is still floating, an ever-present god watching over its people, it is now shackled and contained. A great metal vice grips it, energy coiled and surging around it in countless arms. Even in its imprisoned state it appears much the same as before: asleep and docile, a frustrating sight to behold.

“The Traveler…” the ghost whispers, shock and awe muddled together as the feed’s view drops away from its creator, a sudden understanding of Cayde’s forlorn state taking hold. The water on the screen slowly slides away, revealing a group of Red Legion far off down several street blocks. They march parallel to where the hunter and ghost are, but still, the feed doesn’t watch for long, hurrying away back into the safety of the broken building and the guardian resting there. Cayde hasn’t moved much if at all, his gaze glued back to the gun in his lap. Once the feed is close enough, he glances at it before looking back down.

“Get a good look?”

“Our Light is nearly gone…”

“Nearly? I can’t even conjure enough to outline my knife in solar. It’s gone Sun – gone… Just like her,” he whispers the last part like it's some great sin, one of his hands clenching tighter over the battered weapon in reflex. The feed flickers once again with a confused blink and zooms in again as she moves closer.

“Where is Skylar?” Her question is an innocent one, but pain flashes over Cayde’s metal face in the way of a clenching jaw and closing eyes. “Cayde..?”

“ _ Dead _ ,” the word is a croak in his throat, golden light flickering as he shudders, shoulders curling inward. “She’s dead Sun. I watched her fall from that flagship with no light, no ghost to help her, and I was too far away to do anything.  _ Just watch _ .” He heaves a breath, glancing at the feed again before looking outside. “I still looked for her… I couldn’t not look for her.”

“Are you sure?” the ghost whispers, worry sliding along her electronic voice, and the hunter’s jaw snaps shut with an audible sound as he stares out into the city he’s sworn to protect, eyes glued on the tower of flames. When he finally speaks, his voice is that of the robotic body his human mind inhabits, as if speaking the words causes too much pain for inflection.

“I figured out where she would have landed, right around here, so I looked. Must have spent hours searching. Came across a pack of those war beasts after a while; guess the damn turtles had let them loose to hunt and eat and…” a shudder ranks up his frame, nearly jostling his hood from his head, but he keeps going through clenched mouth plates. “They were tearing up a few bodies, ripping them to shreds through clothes and armor. At first I was going to leave them be – too late for whoever had been there – but then I saw one of the beasts carting this around in its jaw.” His hand somehow clenched hard along the barrel of the Fated Hearts hand cannon. Devastation soaks the already humid air, a suffocating environment for anyone. “I snapped. Killed them all. Don’t think that’s ever happened before.” He lets go of the gun suddenly and his head lolls back against the counter to stare up at the cracked ceiling, his hood sliding off inch by inch.

The feed is silent for over a minute then, both guardian and ghost at a loss for words or having none left to say. Still, it’s the job of a ghost to look after their chosen, and so, after a moment the feed moves closer - too close for a moment as she bumps her shell against his temple, the sound all too loud on the speaker before she floats back once again. Blue eyes glance at her sideways for a moment once more, then back up and Cayde brings a hand up to cover his eyes, another shudder racking up his frame as he lets out a half bitten sob that doesn’t sound quite right on a voice modulator.

“I couldn’t even tell which one was her,” he tells his ghost suddenly. “Everything was a mess of blood and…I couldn’t… I just.” He takes in a deep breath. “I just… burned them all, thought she deserved something, anything better then…” he trails off, palm pressing harder into eye sockets as his throat pulses with golden light. If he was human, he might have been crying, but exos can’t, whether they would have liked to or not.

Another long pause on the feed, twenty seconds this time, and then:

“I’m so sorry Cayde.” And the ghost really does sound pained then, sharing in the loss of a good friend and loved one.

“I wish I’d gotten to hold her one more time,” he murmurs, strength seeming to leave him as each word grows quieter and quieter. “Wish I’d swallowed my pride and asked her to move in with me… wish…” His hand falls back into his lap, clattering on top of the gun. “I don’t… know what to do.” The city was besieged – lost to warlords as guardians and civilians alike were dying. Things didn’t look very good at all and to top it all off... Skylar. A sickening reminder of what war can do.

A long twenty-five seconds pass and then:

“What would she want you to do?” Sundance’s question seems to startle the vanguard leader and he looks directly at the feed as if confused. “What would Skylar want you to do?” She tries again, louder this time. He stares at his partner for nearly a minute before looking back down at his lap and picking the battered gun back up, this thumb brushing over the damaged engraved heart there – the inverted symbol to this own gun, something he’d done on purpose when he’d made it. 

“She’d want me to get off my ass and do something.” A trace of lifted hinges to make a smile, at some memory. He seems thoughtful, distantly remembering and imagining a scene he’ll never really get to see. “She’d tell me it wasn’t over, not at all and… she’d be right.” It’s an admission that puts strength back into his voice. Slowly, Cayde pushes himself up from the ground, fixing his armor and pulling his hood back up. He looks back down at the gun in his hand, eyes brightening as he seems to remember something, then, quick as any sharpshooter he switches it for his own gun. He stows the more than likely broken hand cannon at his waist and turns back toward the gaping entrance and the burning fire. “We can’t stay here.” The feed and ghost follow him as he steps from his hiding place, moving to stand as close as he dares to the fire that serves as a funeral rite.

“Where are we going?” Sundance asks, curious as ever. 

“Still puzzling that out,” he replies honestly, free hand on his hip. “But I’m going to need a ship, so start scanning for a route out of the city. South entrance.” He’s all business all at once, pushing back everything else he’s feeling in order to move forward. As the feed bobs, Cayde begins to turn from the flames, only to pause for a moment and sigh, closing his eyes as if he’s praying. “I’ll go kick some space turtle ass for you Skyla,” he promises before slowly turning away. “See you on the other side.”

He chooses the direction that will lead him out the South Gate and away from the patrol from earlier, and it is something about the stride of his step that sets the pace for a burning goal. The sight of his free hand lingering over his occupied holster is the last thing the camera focuses on before finally the ghost switches tasks and lets the entry fade to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? This was one of the hardest chapters I've ever written for Cayde. I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> See you next Friday!


	4. Sterling Entry Log 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting today, I will be uploading every Tuesday and Friday. Enjoy!

The scene before the viewer is white. Not blank or empty, but white. Snow lays heavy on the ground, only showing the gray rock of the mountain being climbed in small pocket areas that almost look like slash marks. The bitter, frozen water drifts in large clumping flakes that seem to shut out all sound, all of it, except for a rhythmic set of quiet footsteps as they stagger along the path and the rapid breath of aching lungs. The feed zooms out, Sterling floating away from his normal perch on his guardian's shoulder and turning to face her.

The hunter has clearly seen better days, as she seems to be nearly dragging her feet forward up the mild incline. Her armor is all but ruined, her favorite cloak given to her by Variks hangs by one shoulder, the bottom of it torn and ragged. She’s missing an arm guard on her right side and under her pulled up hood, Skylar’s helmet is gone. It is not the only thing that is missing either, for a panning of the camera shows the amber haired woman’s face. There’s dried blood near a scabbed wound at her temple, the red stark on pale skin, but it doesn’t make up for the missing color. The blue of her guardian marking is gone, leaving her face to look oddly off.

There is no Light left within her to mark her as one of the Traveler’s chosen.

Her posture is hunched, and she lets out a long breath as if she’s in pain and indeed something about her chest plate is wrong. The normally glowing eyes of the Tarantella are shorted out, the left side below her ribs looking much like a spider web with all the cracks and splinters sticking out of it. It’s clear from the small drops of blood still dripping from it that there’s shrapnel bitten deep into her body and it’s a wonder that the hunter can still walk.

Not that it lasts for long, as her booted foot catches on a nearly invisible rock in the snow and Skylar stumbles, grunting as she slams to her knees on the ground and gasps in pain. Her teeth snapped together in a hiss, hands digging into the white earth to stop from screaming.

“Ya okay?” the twang of Sterling’s voice echoes over the mic and the camera zooms as he floats closer. “Yer wounds are gonna open back up at this rate. Take it easy.”

Skylar frowns at him, shaking her head.

“We’re still too fucking close to the city,” she whispers. “Can’t rest, not yet. I just wish you could fix my side.”

“Wish I could too. But my Light is limited now and take’n out the shrapnel and gett’n the bleeding to stop might be difficult. I was able to fix yer arm and stop the bleed to yer head, but right now that’s all.”

“I know,” she grumbles, pushing back to her feet after a moment. “Just wish it weren’t true.” Her statement seems to talk about a lot more than just her lack of healed wounds, about her lone trek up the mountain away from her home. Everything is wrong. A shiver racks her frame, causing her to snap her teeth shut again unless she wants to bite her tongue and after a moment of staring, Skylar starts up the slope once again. It’s a slow journey, between half frozen limbs, restrictive movement due to injuries, and ankle-deep snow, but she doesn’t stop moving, not until something catches her attention, her head whipping up.

The feed follows her gaze to a spindly trail of smoke in the sky, and by the look of it, the source had to be close by. Skylar huffs, pulling back her hood to brush hair away from her face, eyeing the smoke.

“Survivors or scouts from the Legion?” she asks her ghost, or maybe she’s just pondering out loud. Either way the camera skips as Sterling blinks.

“Ain’t no way to know without look’n. All channels are still down.” Without the Light, the ghost is limited, made lame in the shadow of what they once were, just like the guardian. “I can check it out?” It’s an offer Skylar quickly shakes her head at as she starts moving again, towards the smoke this time. It’s easier now that the trail is flatter, but she still limps and hunches forward, shoulders quivering in the icy wind.

“You’ve already got a huge crack in your shell; I don’t want to risk you getting any more damaged.” There’s a small quiver of desperation in her tone, as if the thought of her ghost breaking would surely break her, and maybe it would.

What should take a minute to climb takes Skylar nearly five, but finally she’s at the cusp of the mountain entrance, the ice giant towering overhead. It’s there that the camera finds the source of the smoke, the billowing puff turning spindly as it comes to an end at a near dead campfire. It is the sight of the scene around that pile of burning coals that has Skylar taking in a sharp breath of surprise and then, despite what pain she must have felt, the hunter runs forward.

It isn’t a camp, not anymore. It’s a graveyard. The camera counts five bodies lay strewn about, ripped fabric and dented armor splashed red and black, leaving half melted pools in the snow. A few Cabal bodies are there too, one half covering a long dead hunter, its body coated in frozen red ice. It is two bodies that seem to have grabbed Skylar’s attention though, and so the feed focuses on them, picking up the familiar pattern of a robe accompanied by battered armor that peek out from around her own form. Sterling floats higher, above his partner’s head in order to get a better view, blinking once as if shocked at the scene.

The hunter is crouching over the form of Will-7, the exo Warlock from her clan. His chest is caved in, black oil frozen against his red and yellow attire. His famed ‘bat eared’ helm is shattered at the visor, showing a single robotic eye staring blankly back at her. Beside him is another friend, her face unveiled and stuck in a look of fear that didn’t make sense for the titan. Cassidy, an awoken striker and Shiro’s longtime girlfriend is littered in bullet wounds, blood staining her blue parted lips. It’s fairly easy to tell they’ve both been dead a while and yet the amber haired woman still checks them both for a pulse, a breath, or a whir of electrical currents. There is none, and panicked orange gold eyes slowly seem to dim as Skylar’s shoulders slump, head dropping and eyes closing. One of her hands fist into the trench coat of the warlock as she lets out a shuttered breath.

“Damn it, no…” her shushed voice pleads, agony lacing her words as she shakes her head. Her other hand fists as well and she slams it into the cold bitter earth at her side hard enough to crack a layer of ice. “Damn it!” Her scream echoes off the towering cliffs of the mountain, the scene before the viewer seeming to freeze over completely till the sound has faded into nothing. Skylar lets herself fall back onto her butt, a hand coming up to cover her eyes. Her lips twitch around a grimace, clenched teeth warped into a snarl. “I’m so sorry…” she whispers to no one, just the corpses of her friends, her clan, her family. “Will… Cassidy. This shouldn’t have happened.” None of this seems right, not the bodies on the ground and certainly not the normally headstrong hunter who lets out a strangled sob, the glimmer of tears caught in the sunlight like little flares on the camera.

“Skylar…” Sterling's voice is quiet to match her own, the camera zooming in as he moves closer. Her hand falls from her face to look straight into the feed and indeed there are tears pooled in her eyes. She hasn’t cried like this in a while, not since Winter and Tristan were declared MIA.

“What am I going to tell Shiro?” she asks her ghost, clearly lost as she looks back to the dead beyond the feed. “W-what am I going to tell the others? Are they even…” she clicks her jaw shut, refusing to finish her thought, denying any possibility of it at all. She stares for a long time after that, a good ten minutes ticking by on the feed as the wind howls and silent tears slide down icy cheeks. After a while, she swallows and shakes her head again, looking down at her lap instead. “…Cayde,” she whispered, her hand wandering up to her neck where it touches the armor around her collar bone, the same place where a certain necklace always sits, hidden beneath. 

“Guardian?” Sterling says soothingly once again. This time, when she looks at him, there is a lost and brutal rawness to her red rimmed eyes. “We can’t stay here,” he goes on. “It’s not safe.” He’s right, for if this camp was found once, it could easily be found again – the two of them had found it after all. Slowly, she nods her head, wiping at her tears with the heel of her hand.

“Where do we even go?” She asks, forlorn tones ringing in the question, even as she ponders it. “We could try to make for the Iron Temple, I guess.” From the sound of it, that would be a very long hike. The feed shutters with another blinking eye, but before Sterling can answer her, there is a sound that has the hunter’s head shooting up. The creak and shuffle of snow and ice being moved, being walked on and it sounds like heavy feet.

They were already too late.

In a flash, Skylar is back in a crouch, spinning around to face the oncoming danger, her knife out and ready. It won’t do much against guns, but it’s all she has, clenching it tighter in hand as a figure caps the same hill she had before. Many figures in fact, and as the heads continue to form the feed picks out a familiar face – or rather helmet – leading the charge. Shaxx has an auto rifle ready and pointed at her as he breaks over the hill completely and then stops, tensing slightly at the sight. The two heroes stare at each other for a good five seconds on the feed, before all at once, they both relax their stances. 

“Skylar,” the battle master calls to her, relief in his deep rumbling voice. “By The Nine, you're alive.” He’s not alone in his amazement either, the camera fully seeing the gathering of five civilians crowding onto the foot of the mountain. They all look war stricken, dirty and tired, one man’s arm in a sling, a bandage on his head. Behind them a small cluster of Red Jacks guards their flank, two of them hauling supplies. Skylar looks them all over before looking back to her friend and stowing her knife again.

“I could say the same to you,” she tells him, moving to stand and greet him, only for her face to suddenly contort in pain. She lets out a pained groan, quickly sinking back onto her knees and clutching at her side with a hiss. Shaxx doesn’t waste any time to hurry over to her, sling his gun onto his back right next to the glowing red sword he loves. He crouches beside her, one large hand steading her by the shoulder as she sways.

“Are you alright?” His question is answered when Skylar pulls her hand back, her glove coated in fresh blood once more. She grimaces, cursing under her breath as she lets out a shaking breath. “Let me take a look,” the titan demands, pulling her other arm off to the side as he inspects the shrapnel coated wound. The feed looks to it too, picking out the blooming red as it drips off of one larger piece of broken armor. “That doesn’t look good.”

“ ‘Course it don’t!” Sterling snaps, clearly annoyed by the statement as the feed switches back to the two guardians once more. If Shaxx is surprised by the outburst, he doesn’t show it. Of course, it's hard to tell much with that helmet. “I…” almost instantly, the ghost’s anger burns out and a robotic sigh is heard. “I can’t get the shrapnel out and stop the bleeding at the same time, I don’t have enough power left.” He can’t help his chosen partner and clearly that upsets the ghost more than he’s let on. Skylar gives the feed a frown but says nothing, sighing. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I don’t think anything is all that deep or I’d have passed out by now.”

“Bad or not, that shouldn’t be left as it is.” Shaxx stands again, gesturing to the people in front of them. “Anna here is one of the tower doctors, I’m sure she can help. But we can’t stay here.” It’s the same words her ghost had just said and Skylar nods once again. The titan helps her to her feet before turning his head to the silent camp. It’s hard to tell what he’s looking at but it’s clear from the stiffening in his shoulders he recognizes all of them, even the ones Skylar doesn’t. The hand he still has on her shoulder, squeezes gently as Skylar joins him in looking. “I’m sorry.”

Skylar closes her eyes for a moment, pulling in a tired breath. “Me too,” she murmurs before simply taking the few steps she needs to be next to Will again. Carefully, despite a protest from a female voice off screen, she bends over once more. Shaxx doesn’t stop her as she carefully pulls the arm band from Will’s stiff limb and then retrieves Cassidy’s sash as well. Skylar stumbles slightly as she stands, carefully bundling them to her chest. It’s all she can do for them, for burying them would take too long and burning them would only draw unwanted eyes. She turns back to the Crucible leader, biting her lip.

“I... I don’t know where everyone is,” she admits quietly.  _ I don’t know what to do. _ Shaxx nods his head, understanding her unsaid words with ease and moves to sling her arm over his shoulders.

“Come, let’s find a place to rest. We can talk later.” His offer is unexpected, but welcome and a small, tired smile graces her lips in thanks. Nodding her head, she lets the titan take the lead away from the graveyard and towards the looming mountains. As Sterling follows, he lets the feed catch on the small group of survivors as they huddle together through the frosty wind and heavy snow. Just two guardians and five of the people they were sworn to protect. It’s not even close to the numbers there should be, but it’s a number and it’s a start.

The trek up the mountain begins with one step, and Sterling lets the feed flip off as he joins his partner at the head of the herd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!  
> See you on Tuesday!


	5. Sundance Entry Log 200

“Just a bit further now,” Cayde’s voice sounds over the mic as the fed sputters on, showing the dark and cramped space of what must have once been one of the several gate houses in the wall of the city. Clearly it’s been destroyed, the crumbled pieces of wall cluttering the path and, with all the lights dead, the scene is nearly claustrophobic. The only real light in the endless looking path comes from the ghost itself in the form of a small flashlight below the feed, and the natural glow of Exo eyes and flickering vocals. Even with those sources, the view is bleak at best, casting sharp black edges across the walls and the vanguard leader himself.

The shadows are so thick, so dark, it looks as if they might swallow up everything in their path.

“Are you even sure it’s still there?” Sundance’s voice is calm as normal, though any humor the AI might have is absent as of late. “Seems like everything is in ruin. It’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” Cayde doesn’t need time to think about that answer, and indeed it seems to fit both answering the question and agreeing with his partner. He doesn’t stop moving, and thus the camera follows him, hovering above and to the side. “It’s a newer one, so it should be easy enough to find. I don’t see a reason for the legion to bomb the areas outside of the city. Seems like a waste of resources and Cabal aren’t really known for being peacocks.”

There’s life back in the Exo’s voice, a sheer difference from the last time he was on screen, though it’s not as carefree as it used to be either; there’s a telltale strain to his words and the way he holds himself up, walking as if the weight of the world rested there. Or maybe not the world... maybe it was the dead.

There isn’t much to talk about as they walk, so Sundance lets the feed go quiet, capturing Cayde as he maneuvers over a rather large piece of rubble, skidding back down the other side and continuing on. Over ten minutes pass in the shadows of the tunnel that’s meant for vehicles, not a lone hunter, but slowly light appears at the end of it.

Cayde is right; that’s the first thing the new scenery shows the viewer once the camera adjusts to more light. In the setting sunlight, the snow has all but melted from the storm two days past, showing the hardy plants beneath. Cayde appears to relax slightly out in the open air, and maybe it’s because he’s a hunter, made to be out in the great wilderness of the world, or maybe it’s simply because nothing out here reeks of loss. The exo takes a long moment to get his bearing before he makes a small sound and points.

“Ah! It’s that way,” he looks to the camera as he speaks, a small, tired smile lifting the hinges of his jaw. Without pause he leads the way through the trees and ferns, his footfalls somehow a whisper of what they should be. As he leads the way, he seems to find his voice again, perhaps trying to fill in the void of lonely silence untouched by the chirp of birds and the buzz of insects. “You know, this one was kind of her idea,” he says softly, turning his head away from the camera and for once, it doesn’t follow it, instead letting the viewer simply see his hooded head.

“Oh?” Sundance humors him, feigning surprise when there’s no way she wouldn’t know that. He doesn’t drop the topic or point this out either.

“Yeah. Back when she was still a rookie, my rookie. She told me I should have a ‘getaway ship’ for when Zavala told Amanda to lock my personal one up. Damn, big blue loved keeping me locked up.” He sighed, a hand coming up to rub his neck over the hood. “I know he meant well.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to look back at the ghost sideways. “Is there any news?”

“…No,” Sundance answers quietly, nearly pained. It’s clear this isn’t the first time he’s asked. “The communication lines are still down and I haven’t picked up any distress calls either.”

The sigh she receives in reply is nearly heartbreaking and once again his gaze returns forward, pushing back a waterlogged tree branch. “Keep trying,” is all he finally says, and after a few more minutes they come to a small well-hidden cave, half blocked by a tree trying to grow on the rocky foundation. Cayde moves aside a few dangling roots and once more the flashlight flicks on, showing the rather deep room. It’s a good thing it’s wide and deep too, because the ship takes up a good 75% of it, and seems in pretty good shape despite being left to the elements. Walking fast, Cayde runs a hand over the ship as he goes, staring from pointy nose to long tapering wings.

Once he’s passed that, he walks over to an old dirty table piled with boxes. The feed floats up higher to get a good look at the box Cayde snatches up and tears open, revealing stack after stack of quick load ammo magazines. He starts to put a few into the places on his armor meant to hold them before pausing and looking at the box.

“I might as well take the whole thing,” he thinks out loud, and truly, with the tower’s armory gone, ammunition will be more precious than before. “I got lucky that this place is still here.” It’s exactly the opposite to what he had said before, but really, he is lucky. “I doubt the others have much ammo right now, if any.”

“Perhaps we should head for known bases nearby, maybe some of the others have gathered there?” Sundance’s suggestion hints that Cayde still hasn’t said what his plan is, or even if he has one. That thought it quickly smashed as the exo shakes his head.

“No, we aren’t going to find what we need on Earth. The little fuckers haven’t found a foothold here yet.” The swearing is odd, misplaced on him since it's so uncommon, making it jarring. It’s a sign of some odd coping mechanism, as if talking like some other people – or person in this case – somehow brings him comfort. His ghost doesn’t comment, doesn’t move against him, just helps in the only way she can.

“Then where?”

“You still have the vanguard database on your memory core?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Cayde grunts slightly as he moves the box from the table and walks to the back of the ship, using a shoulder to get the lever for the ramp to work. He waits till the squealing, groaning metal touches down and then climbs up into the ship, dropping the box near what looks like a barely touched cot in the small storage bay of the ship. The feed follows him throughout this, as he puts the box down and brushes his hands together. “Start listing off locations of large vex colonies in the system. Leave out Venus, we know that's mostly cleared out since The Vault was taken out.” He pauses, winces at his own words and the reminders they bring up, as if they cause physical pain. “Don’t bother with Mercury either, that place is too dangerous without Light and I’m not a big fan of the hammer boys.”

He walks from the ship quickly as he speaks, picking up another box of supplies and stowing them the same way as the first before Sundance seems to find the words to speak.

“What are we looking for?”

The third box is stacked in the ship before Cayde answers, rolling his shoulders.

“We’re going to surprise old Ghaul, Sun, but first we’re going to need a way to teleport straight to him. Don’t know about you, but the vex seems like the best bet for something of that caliber.” He sighs, hands on the last box on the table. “I’m going all in on this. No time left to bluff, not if we want any chance of getting through this.” The determination in his voice is strong as steel, forged in pain and grief and hammered out into something less than a need for justice. “I’m not going to sit here and say this is for some noble cause. All I want is a little payback for what he’s taken from me.”

The camera watches him load the last box and then he finally sits down on the cot, pulling out the battered and broken gun of the Fated Hearts. He doesn’t move to fix it, just rests a hand over the chamber, thumb running over the half scraped off heart there. Clearly, he needs this goal, this payback – for it seems to be the only thing keeping him moving. A small sound near the feed registered as a sigh that is somehow both sad and worried in pitch.

“I’ll start running through our options.”

Glowing blue eyes flick up to meet the viewer and a slow half smile pulls at the hinges of his jaw.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing more terrifying than Cayde deciding he'd bet everything on the cars in his hand if it gives him a way to reap revenge for the one thing he was never willing to lose...
> 
> I'm looking forward to hearing you're thoughts! Reviews and Kudos are the best rewards and author can ask for. 
> 
> See you on Friday.


	6. Sterling Entry Log 24

The crunch of heavy boots in snow is like a heartbeat for the feed as it flicks on, the white of the area proving to be nearly blinding with the freshly risen sun overhead. The time on the corner of the screen reads an hour after dawn and yet as the screen turns from the endless expanse of snow laden rock, the small group of people and Red Jacks alike marching in freezing shin-deep powder carry on. Their worn, terror-stricken faces make the scenery somehow bleaker than it should be, washed out like a faded shirt. There are five humans in all behind their lightless protector, all trying to keep up with his tireless pace, and nearly failing to do so as the Red Jacks guard their backs. 

The view slides outward, widening and turning to said guardian, or rather guardians as it were. Shaxx walks without pause, his fur lined shoulders crusted in ice that blows in with the soft current of wind. He is the pinnacle of what a titan should be – strong, empowering in both might and stature – a shield to everyone around them. He is a shield, and yet somehow, he is gentle as he cradles a broken and exhausted hunter in his arms. Skylar’s eyes are closed, the absence of her guardian mark surreal, and wrong somehow. Her cloak is twisted and wrapped around her form like a blanket to help against the cold.

“Thank ya fer carryin’ her,” the southern robotic voice is softer than normal, as if trying to not wake his partner. The only indication that the crucible master is now looking at him is the slight turn of his helmeted head before it returns to look forward.

“It’s the least I can do. Her team has carried the weight of all our hopes on their shoulders for years now. It is only right that when their leader falls, I offer my shoulders for once.” The term catches the ghost off guard and the screen flickered with a blink.

“She’s never called ‘erself the leader.”

“She doesn’t need to. She founded her clan, and even if Z or Corvan is leading the group in a mission, she is the one keeping them together.”

The ghost is quiet for a few minutes on the clock, digesting the words carefully as he keeps pace with Shaxx up a slippery incline. They are reaching the top of the passage and soon they will start on a downward slope. The camera looks to the sleeping hunter more carefully, as if willing her to wake. She doesn’t.

“Corvan and Noble were on the Africa mission,” he tells the titan, a hint of sadness there, a meaning that doesn’t have to be said aloud.  _ The clan is dwindling. _

“If anyone can stay alive during this mess it’s the two of them,” Shaxx assures the Ai. “Do not lose faith in their strength, or their will to live.” Skylar is alive; she’d fallen too far from that ship, walked with injuries for hours. Yet, with all their strength, two clan members, two family members were gone. “What of the rest?” he asks, reading into the thickening silence. “What of Z and Haar? Of Cayde?”

There is a long, painful moment of quiet only ruffled by the steady crunch of snow under feet.

“We don’ know…” a thick sadness accompanied the cajun twang of the ghost. “They were all in the city last I was able ta ping ‘em on the network.” Friends, family, lovers, all missing without a trace, that fact lays heavy with the deaths of others.

“I see.” Shaxx shifted his hold on the huntress, large hands being careful of her side. “I have a feeling what is to come might feel like the days before the city for a while.”

“Ya were a Warlord back then.” Not a question, a statement, and one that was a tad unflattering.

A chuckle, deep and unfaltering.

“Cayde tell you about that? Or was it Winter?”

“…Winter.”

Shaxx nods his head, humming, and doesn't respond for a good solid two minutes on the clock. Bringing up the name of a friend who’d gone MIA months ago seems to hit the war hero harder than one would think.

“She was never a big fan of the Warlords, but she didn’t join the Iron Lords either. Too caught up with Toland.” He sighs, and the lack of expression from his helmet leaves a lot to want for. “We were still good friends though, especially after the city was founded. I remember when Zavala, Winter, and I went hunting for Ahamkara. Those were the good old days.”

“She told me that story.” The new voice, but all too familiar still has the feed flickering as Sterling blinks in surprise. The image tracks down with Shaxx’s head, landing on Skylar who is blinking slowly up at him and the endless blue above. She doesn’t continue talking as one might have thought though, simply letting the sentence end there, the topic perhaps too painful for her still. Instead she seems to stare blankly up, clearly not paying any attention, and for a long moment it seems she might have passed out with her eyes open. Worried, the feed zooms closer.

“Ya okay?” Sterling asks, ever the mother hen. That seems to snap Skylar from her daze, orange yellow eyes flicking to the screen and blinking. She shakes her head after a moment, reaching up and laying a hand on Shaxx’s arm.

“Just… I had a strange dream,” she murmurs, patting the arm. “You can let me down. Thank you for carrying me this far.” While Sterling makes a sound of protest, the titan complies without a word, halting his steps for a moment to set her on her feet. Sky shakes her cloak out, her hand moving to her side as if to check the wound. With her standing, the feed can see that the shattered remains of her chest armor is gone, leaving her in under armour that stops at her ribs. The skin that might have been exposed is wrapped in tight white bandages, a spot of blood here and there on it.

“You should be completely healed in a few days,” the Crucible master tells her, already walking again, as to not halt their little group. The hunter falls into step easily beside him, and the feed zooms back out to encompass them both once more. “Dr. Freedman got out all the shrapnel she could and stitched you up. Your ghost took care of most of the deep parts. It’s scabbed over by now and there's no doubt that with a few treatments from him over time it will fade into nothing but memories.” Scars, a rarity among most guardians, but nothing new to Skylar. The hunter takes a moment to pull her hood back up. Damaged as the cloak is, at least the head piece can still keep the wind out.

“It’s appreciated. I’m not sure I would have made it much farther if you hadn’t found me.” To her surprise, Shaxx chuckles and she raises a brow at him.

“You are stronger than you think. Now, tell me of this dream. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“I’m curious as well,” Sterling chirps, too loud so close to the mic, making his voice squeak at the end. Skylar glances between the two of them and then rolls her eyes as if it’s a chore.

“I guess it’s something to talk about as we walk,” she muses, reaching up and clutching at the crescent charm at her neck, now visible with the armor gone. “I don’t really get it. I was… in a tree? It was cold, too cold. I remember feeling panicked about how my fingers were turning blue at the tips and how badly I needed to get back to… somewhere? Someone? But I couldn’t.” she shakes her head again. “I was hiding for some reason, from a troop of Fallen, waiting for them to leave, but they didn’t and… ” her thumb traced over the solar glow of the charm, a frown pulling at her lips.

“And what?” Sterling questions, the feed moving a bit closer as he floats forward in anticipation. Skylar blows out a breath and finally just shrugs.

“I don’t know. It was like there was nothing else, just darkness, and then I woke up.” Finally, she drops her hand from the necklace Cayde gave her, crossing her arm instead. “Like I said: it was weird.”

“Indeed,” Shaxx agrees, a thoughtful hint to his rumbling tone. “Ikora would certainly be interested in hearing about it.”

Skylar seems to agree, nodding slightly, her chapped lips parting to say something, only for her to suddenly jerk, her head snapping forward at the same time as the titan’s. A few seconds later on the clock it’s clear why, as the sound of an engine closing in on them rumbles through the mic. Glancing at each other, Skylar nods and bolts forward, hand at her knife instantly while Shaxx bellows an order to halt progress before following her. The feed scrambles to keep up, a jerky, shaking mess as Sterling floats quickly after them. They reach the end of the platowing section of the mountain, stopping at the downward slope they’d been heading towards. The camera passes both Guardians as they crouch, Shaxx handing small binoculars to Skylar. Seeming to know what they will be looking at it, Sterling moves to surveying the area that is now in full view.

Down below what looks like a beat-up transport ship meant for hauling cargo is landing at the bottom of the incline. It’s not cabal, but it looks far too old for the tower – Amanda would never have let a ship stay like that. The ship seems to be meeting a small group of humans guarding boxes of what can only be seen to be supplies that are clearly cabal in origin as the camera zooms in for a closer look.

“They’re humans, shouldn’t we-” Skylar starts off in a whisper off camera, but is quickly cut off by the much older guardian.

“Not all humans can be trusted. Wait another moment.” Old and wise, there’s no telling what the battle master has seen in his lifetime. As he speaks the ship touches down completely, sending clouds of snow into the air from the roaring engines that are quickly cut soon after. With a groaning creek that even the mic can pick up from so far off, the bay ramp lowers and out comes two more figures for the zoomed feed to analyze. As with the rest of the group, nothing is familiar with the first, but the other is anything but. The cloak at their collar catches in the wind and while it and the armor are not recognizable, the face not covered by a helmet is.

The sharp intake of breath from behind tells the viewer that Skylar recognizes them too. There is a hurried set of sounds, and suddenly Skylar is eclipsing the camera as she leaps from her spot and slides on hurried feet down the icy slope, hood nearly yanked from her person. Shaxx’s chuckle is nearly lost as she shouts, hope finally lighting up her words once more.

“Z!”

The hunter turns sharply at his name being called, and even as the feed slowly gets sharper as the distance is closed by the ghost, the shock on his scruffy face is evident. It appears as if he barely has time to really process the fact that his teammate is there before he’s nearly knocked down, Skylar embracing her closest friend as if she hasn’t seen him in years. After a few seconds tick by on the feed Z blinks and quickly returns the gesture, relief evident in how tightly he holds her. His mouth moves, saying something too low to hear and Skylar smiles fully for the first time in days. 

They both ignore the stares from the people around them, even as they pull back and start talking. They don’t break eye contact till Shaxx’s rumbling voice echoes over the mic, turning every head in the area. Suddenly, there is light back in Skylar’s eyes.

Suddenly, the world doesn’t seem so washed out anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcome. Be sure to come hand out and ask questions on my tumblr @featherfang!  
> See you all next Tuesday!


	7. Sundance Entry Log 201

An endless expanse of stars greets the viewer as the feed flicks on, showing the frontal glass of a ship’s cockpit. It’s anyone's guess where they are, for the velvet black only holds the light of distant suns. The ship doesn’t appear to be moving either, a sleeping creature amongst the darkness. Despite the size of the ship, the feed seems too close to Cayde as it swivels to put him front and center. His hood is off again, chin resting heavily on a raised hand as he stares off into the void of space. Silence ticks by on the clock and nothing changes. The exo doesn’t blink once and his unfocused gaze is dimmer than usual. Slowly, the feed backs up slightly, Sundance pulling back to give her partner some space. She waits again, a full minute passing by in which the vanguard leader might as well be made of stone instead of metal.

“I’ve routed a course to Nessus,” the calm voice of the AI overtakes the mic, too loud in the silent ship, but not loud enough to wake her partner. “Cayde?” His name is what rouses him, shoulders twitching, head lifting, as he blinks slowly brightening optics. He turns his head to the side to look at the feed in a dazed half-asleep manner. “We can head to Nessus anytime.”

“Oh, right.” A gloved hand comes up and rubs his jaw, probably sore from his stiff and heavy posture of before. “We should get going then.” He doesn’t seem very enthusiastic, some of the fire and haste burned out since the last time the camera was on. He looks tired somehow; even though exos can’t get rings under their eyes or lines on their faces, there is still an air of fatigue around him.

“…What were you thinking about?” The ghost is hesitant, almost too worried to ask such a question, but too curious to stop herself.

“Hm?”

“Before – what were you thinking about?”

“Oh.” The short word seems to hold gravity with how heavy and low his tone is. As if the ghost’s fears are right and the question would have been better left unasked. Still, it has been asked and after a few ticks on the clock Cayde answers. “Just thinking about a fond memory from a year or so ago.” He shifts in the pilot seat, the hand that had once been raised now flat on the console, as he drummed his fingers so close it was a wonder he didn’t press any buttons. “You know on Fellwinter’s peak, where the Iron Lord base is?”

“Of course.”

“After all that SIVA nonsense was cleared up and the raid was done, Skylar and I went there to visit Shiro.” The hinge of his jaw twitches for a moment, as if failing to make even the ghost of a smile. “I think she just wanted me to meet the wolf that kept following her around. She liked calling him Frost, said he’d make a good partner out on the field. Saladin didn’t much like that, gave her a good old talking to, about leaving animals out of the war, but he’s wrong. Josef and his dog Luna? They’re quite the unstoppable force. I pointed that out to the Iron Lord and he didn’t have a very good come back, just looked at Skylar and sighed.” He trails off for a moment, thinking through his own words as if something had caught his mind. “I think… they were on the moon this last week. Josef and Luna I mean.” He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling of loss that dims his blue eyes once more.

“Anyway…” he cleared his throat. “I was remembering… we stayed there a few days, and the night before we had to go back we decided to climb the rest of the way up the mountain for kicks. Took us a while, but when we got near the top, we found this perfect little flat spot with an overhang. You could see out beyond the temple out into the mountains. It’s a sight you can’t see in the tower, the kind of sight only hunters ever see.” Even though Sundance must have known about this, must have seen everything he was saying, the mic stays quiet, leaving it open for her partner to talk – because he needs to, has to, or the grief will crush him where he sits. “We ended up camping up there that night, built a fire and everything. Too cold to do much, just talk while I held her. It felt… normal, right. It didn’t feel like we were guardians.” It’s a dream, an impossible dream for nearly every guardian under the vanguard.

“I wish she’d taken Lady Efrideet up on that offer… but she stayed, despite everything.” Stayed for Cayde and her team. Those choices, those memories, seem so far off now and yet… The way he talks about it, the way he seems to get lost in his own words makes it easier for the viewer to see his own rendition of those moments, to see that view and that campfire – to see that impossible dream. The stars must have shone as brightly as they did now, or perhaps brighter still.

Sometimes memories are the only escape from a reality that lacks everything that has made the world right. Sometimes, it makes the truth of it all just a bit more bearable. 

“I miss her,” it’s the first thing he says after nearly five minutes of complete silence on the feed. He is staring forward into the dark abyss again, unblinking. “I miss all of them, but I miss her the most.” It’s unclear if he’s talking about the people he works with now, his fire team and such, or if he’s talking about everyone in general, all the people he’s lost in his long existence. Andal. Tevis. People that he’d held close and still lost, still mourned. Now, there was a new name on that list, a name that seems to drag him down yet push him forward everytime he says it.

_ Skylar. _

“I know,” Sundance whispers, floating slightly closer. “Have you considered… what you found might not be what you thought it was?” She wants to be hopeful, to ignite that same hope in him if only to ebb the pain in some way. Cayde looks to the screen for a long while, passing the three minute mark before he glances away again.

“...No” Cayde murmurs, that flicker of hope nearly gone, with the truth he is so sure of set out before him. “You didn’t see what I saw Sun, you didn’t see the end of that damn fight. All of our Light just gone and…” he trails off with a wire deep sigh. “Even if those bodies I found weren’t her…she fell from far too high up.” It's like tearing open a freshly stitched wound, seeing the bare agony in the set of his jaw, the flex of metal plates. The ghost doesn’t say anything after that, perhaps regretting her choice of words. He is too stubborn, too set in his ways. He’s lost too many people over the years to believe in miracles. Slowly, the exo runs a hand down his face, dim eyes staring back out at the inky endless stretch of space.

“Let’s move out,” he orders finally, reaching forward to grasp at controls, clicking and flicking all the right buttons and switches. “Time to find us some Vex Tech.”

The stars become violently yanked, stretched and blurred out, their light nothing more than bright lines as the ship speeds across the expanse of space. Whatever memories they may hold – dear or otherwise – are left behind in their strung-out glow, waiting, and watching till next time comes about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a smaller chapter I know, but important all the same. Reviews and kudos are always welcome.   
> See you guys on Friday!


	8. Sterling Entry Log 25

The echoing of gunfire accompanies the flickering of light as an image comes into focus. The surroundings are dark and decrepit, a concrete building with cracks and vines weaving through it. The focal point of the image is the amber haired hunter, hunched low to the ground near a window, sniper rifle out and eye glued to the scope. Next to her is an older looking human, beard graying more than his hair and reinforced leather armor over his torso. He has a pair of binoculars up over his eyes, pointed in the same direction as Skylar’s gun. Another thunderous round goes off, the gun jumping against her shoulder. The sound echoes inside the building they’re in, fading into nothing, and only then does the hunter finally pull away from the sights of her gun, turning her head when the man chuckles.

“As terrifying as ever with a scope I see. You’d give Suraya a run for her money.” He lowers his binoculars and gives her a wink, a smile pulling up one corner of his lips. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.” He gets a small chuckle at that and then gestures to the gun itself. “I’m impressed you only missed once with that thing. It jumps like a bucking stag.”

“Cayde told me once that at the end of the day, it’s not the gun, it’s the one firing it that makes it good.” Skylar sits up, rolling her shoulders, and letting the rifle rest across folded legs. A finger taps along the rather beaten frame of the gun that reflects a time when the hunter had first started off and couldn’t afford nicer equipment. “Though honestly, it’s a piece of shit. I’m going to have a lot of bruising on my shoulder from it and I have to basically hold the thing down when I fire.” She sighed, using a hand to push her bangs out of her face. “I already miss my Patience and Time, but with Banshee MIA, all I have to work with is your guys’ stash and what Shaxx was able to sneak out.” From the sounds of it, the pickings aren't good.

Indeed, even the huntress’s armor seems a bit used, the red and gray of the Crucible gear so different from her normal blue and black. Still, it looks better than the torn and beaten armor she was in before, the only remaining piece of it being some rather chewed up looking falcon feathers she put back on her left arm guard. The man nods his head slowly in a sympathetic way.

“It’s a near tragedy for a masterpiece like that to break. Was there really nothing to be done?”

“The frame was bent Devrim,” Skylar laments. “There was no way I could fix it and with my wounds, I didn’t dare to try and take a broken gun with me in a city full of pissed off space turtles.” She drops her hand from her face, frowning as she looks back out the window. “Trust me, no one will miss that gun more than me. It was… full of memories. Between that and waking up with my Fated Hearts hand cannon missing… things just fucking suck.” The loss of the guns is a hard blow, but the meaning behind them, what she overcame to get them, what they’d meant to her – hurts far more. They remind her of Cayde no doubt, the hand gun a treasured gift from him, and a sniper he told her about in the very beginning. She’s avoiding talking about him, concentrating on losses that, while less important, are still just important enough that her companions don’t pry into her flicking expressions of pain. Devrim sits back against the wall next to the window, looking off beyond the view of the camera.

“They should be back soon,” he says by way of changing the subject. “Maybe once things are all cleaned up for the day and we get back to the farm I’ll brew us up some tea.” His offer earns him a smile — a small one, but still a smile. It’s gone all too quick though, and her eyes seem to darken as she stares out into the late afternoon ruins of a once booming city.

“I should have gone with them.” Her statement leaves the air thick with tension once again, the camera flickering as the ghost blinks, and moves slightly closer as if to comfort the guardian. Devrim surveys her for a long moment before sighing.

“I know, but you need to give that wound a chance to fully heal.” He nods toward her torso, towards the shrapnel wound she got from her own armor. “You pushed too hard when you went to that Traveler shard. I understand why, with everything that’s happened, but since…” he trails off, looking almost sorry as Skylar’s shoulders hunch as if his words were a physical blow. She frowns at him, a near dejected look crossing her face as her eyes cast down to her lap and her gun.

“I never wanted to be a hero,” she grumbles. “But when everyone treats you as one, when they expect you to be the best…it’s disheartening that The Traveler doesn’t agree.” She fingers flex against the rifle. “I don’t really know how to feel about the fact that Z and Haar got their Light back, but I didn’t. In the end, I’m just glad they’re both alive… But I need to find someone else too...” Someone more important to her than anyone else. Devrim gives her a look.

“You’re still mad at them for stopping you from leaving, are you?” His question gets a scowl from her, finger tapping on the gun. 

“I get why they did it, but I should have had a choice. I need to do something...”

“You will, once you have a direction to go in. You won’t get anywhere if you start wandering around the solar system looking for one person.” He points out. Skylar sighs, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to avoid the fact that his words make sense. 

“They said as much too, you know, as Haar was literally carrying me back to the farm.” The embarrassment of that fact is more than likely the root of her anger, rather than them stopping her. She isn’t stupid - she knows it hadn’t been a good idea. “I just… need to be patient and be glad they're alright with me going with them to begin with, Lightless and all.” Not an easy task for a hunter, to wait, or to admit their weaknesses.

“That’s the spirit. Try to look at the good things. It’s all we have left right now.” That and a small expanse of safety and close comrades. “I, for one, am glad you made it out alive, and I’m sure Cayde is out there somewhere.” He means it as comfort, but the way Skylar smirks says that she doesn’t need it.

“I know he is. I don’t doubt for a moment that he’d causing plenty of trouble for the Red Legion.”

“I second that,” The voice isn’t very close by, but the way the building is shaped seems to carry the sound farther than normal. The two on screen look at each other and then Devrim stands and offers the hunter a hand. They walk over to the stairs and peek over the railing, the camera panning from them to where they are looking. Below, the rubble of church pues is accompanied by the two other members of Fire Team Silent Wings. Z, the one that had spoken is helmetless and smirking, his arms crossed over a chest plate just as worn as Skylar’s. Haar is next to him, his helmet – that of the likeness of his old friend Saint-14 – is still locked into place. Behind them, Hawthorn stands ridged and alert. 

“Took you long enough,” Skylar’s voice calls off screen and Z huffs, mock hurt on his face.

“Hey, we did our best. Takes longer without a sniper at our backs, you know.”

“Do I hear complaining from a guardian with Light? No, I must be mistaken, surely not.”

Haar chuckles, his synthetic voice making it through his helmet with ease.

“Shots fired.”

Z glowers at the Exo and shoves his shoulder, but it’s the hunter that ends up rebounding more than the titan, who hardly moves an inch. Haar tilts his head at his friend.

“What was that?”

“A statement.”

“Seems like a pretty  _ light  _ statement.”

“Hey not everyone has pauldrons the size of their head.”

“All the better to YEET you with.”

“You…”

By now they are facing each other, Z scowling at his friend, their heads leaning closer together in some kind of game of chicken. A quiet laugh off screen seems to relax them both almost instantly though, their heads turning in the direction of the screen. Z huffs and rubs the back of his neck while Haar rolls his shoulders. Perhaps their horsing around is more than it seems.

“How’d the mission go?” Devrim asks, getting them all back on track. Z looks at Haar for a moment, brow raising as if waiting for him to say something first. With a small sigh, the exo does.

“Nothing to worry about with the beacon install. Some Fallen, but that’s par for the course. It’s what we picked up within moments of activating it that was interesting.” At his words, the female rebel behind the two guardians scowls and looks away, clearly unhappy.

“Oh?” Skylar muses curiously. “And..?”

“Seems Cayde’s not the only one to make it out alive,” Z states with a crooked grin, continuing on with the idea that of course, the exos is alive. He makes a gesture with his hands to form a wide connecting row of fingers from palm to palm before placing it in front of his face, eyes peeking out. “Seems our fearless wall-loving leader is alive, and he’s calling every guardian to Titan.”

“Titan?” There’s disbelief in her voice and as the camera pans back to the redhead in profile, her expression matching her tone. Whether it’s the fact that Zavala is alive or that he’s sending a distress call is unknown. Maybe it’s both. “I thought that moon was abandoned. I’ve never been on it, have you guys?” Despite her rap sheet of achievements, the hunter had only been alive five years as opposed to her teammates who both had decades if not centuries on her.

“Nope,” Z says without pause.

“I have,” Haar states, drawing Skylar’s attention. “It was a long time ago, back when the walls were still new. Did some map work at the time.” Never let it be said that the titan didn’t enjoy his side job as a cartographer.

“This is all very interesting and everything,” Hawthorn’s voice is sharp and irritated offscreen and once more the view pans back to the lower floor. Suraya is the one with crossed arms now, a frown so deeply drawn on her face it looks carved there. “But I have supplies I need to get back to the farm.” None of the guardians seem to want to call her out on her attitude, though Z seems tempted with the way his eyes narrow.

“Right,” Devrim cuts in, clearing his throat. “Let’s push off, shall we? I think we could all use some rest and a hot meal. We can talk more of your plans later.” No one has said anything about a plan, but maybe it's pretty clear to see that it’s a given for the fireteam to answer the call of their leader. There’s a shuffle and a sigh and then Skylar speaks again.

“Yeah, he’s right. Let’s get out of here. Frankly, this old church is starting to kind of creep me out.”

“Hey now,” Devrim chimes in defensively as the screen once more moves to focus on the two upstairs. Both hunter and scout are picking up guns and packs from the ground. “I happen to think this is a pretty secure stake out spot. I would think you’d agree with those shots you got off.”

“Heh, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.” Skylar smirks before nodding towards the stairs. The older man gives her a half assed scowl before starting off and Skylar can’t stop the snicker that escapes her as she moves to follow and join the rest of her team. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nah, her fireteam just wants to make her feel better :)
> 
> What do you guys think?
> 
> See you next Tuesday!


	9. Sundance Entry Log 202

The sound of a jumpship’s engines is a gentle hum in the background of a louder sound. The feed comes into focus quickly with a single blink of the ghost’s eye, and shows the cockpit from behind. The large center chair takes up a great deal of the screen, but all around its edges are sleek metal and colored controls, or the black of space only broken up by streaking lines as the craft zooms along. The sound of Cayde muttering can be heard from the seat, along with a clicking and tapping of something unseen by the viewer.

Moving, Sundance pans the camera around to the front, leaving the icy darkness of space to be replaced with her partner. He’s bent over a pull-out desk-like panel and hunched over it in a way that will more than likely have him complaining of pain later. Broken into pieces and scattered along the surface are fragments of metal, fabricated plastic, and tech. Cayde’s hand moves about, cleaning and clicking things into place before pulling them apart again as they don’t fit right. After another attempt, he huffs and sits back for a moment, holding a cylinder shape with flattened sides all the way around. The copper of the piece is scratched and dented, showing silver underneath and ripping apart the finely printed black heart on one side. Indeed, all of the pieces are in those colors and it doesn’t take one long to realize it’s the Fated Hearts hand cannon laid bare on the table.

“Cayde?” The ghost’s voice is gentle and quiet, but seems loud as always with the mic too close. The exo’s eyes flick up and he blinks as if clearing a daze from his mind. “What are you doing?” Her question has him looking back down at his palm and sighing.

“I just figured I’d try to fix it while we travel. Gives me something to do.” Something to keep his mind off of everything that weighs him down. Too much pain to even want to think about it, too little hope to hold on to. He glances at what must be the chamber of the gun and then sets it off to the side of the rest of the pieces. He leans down off to one side of his chair and with a clatter, sets a box in his lap. The feed zooms in a bit to see a cluster of raw silver and gray gun pieces that he sifts through, the metal sliding against metal making a jarring and nearly painful noise.

After about two minutes have passed on the clock, he snatches a similarly shaped chamber from the stash and then returns the box to the ground. He doesn’t look up again, and doesn’t even pause as he takes the new piece and clicks it into place with another part of the gun. He makes a small sound of approval – a small win, as it were, in his favor – and then picks up another piece. Time passes slowly on the clock, neither passenger in the ship speaking as the feed captures the hunter rebuilding the gun once more. 

He’d built The Fated Hearts from the remains of the Fate Bringer. He would fix it again.

Twenty minutes turn into thirty and then finally the screen flickers with another blink and Sundance seems to stir back to life.

“We are approaching our destination and should enter Nessus’s atmosphere in three minutes.”

Once again, Cayde looks up at the screen and gives a small nod. In his hands, is the mostly put together gun, only a few pieces left on the small shelf. The grip is different now, as is the chamber, but it seems he’s managed to keep most of the original gun intact. There is little that can be done about the scraps across the metal and the finish of the paint, but it looks sound.

“Alright. We’ve made fairly good time then. Should have this all done in a moment.” As he speaks he picks up the last pieces and clicks them back into place, using a tool to tighten a few key screws along the grip. He tests the motion of the chamber, eyeing where the ammo will sit and then cocks back the hammer and pulls the trigger. A resounding click as the hammer hits home rings across the air and Cayde gives the tiniest of an upward cock to his jaw. 

“That’s much better.”

A sudden shudder racks across the ship and the feed wobbles as the force moves the ghost in the air. At first it could be brushed off as the ship simply entering the planet, but when another, stronger shudder occurs and Cayde’s face goes from startled to slightly worried, it’s clearly not the case.

“What the hell is going on?”

“A Fallen ship has spotted us.” The matter of fact, calm voice of his ghost has the vanguard giving her an exasperated look. “I informed you before leaving Earth that the radar on this ship wasn’t working properly.” That doesn’t really change the look he’s giving the feed, but as another bout of shaking has the screen wobbling again, he quickly stores the table and places the finished gun on his lap, grabbing at a few controls that are on the curving console in front of him.

“Give the controls over to me,” he snaps and then jerks the handle of the steering mechanism hard to one side. The feed spins, the inertia dizzying the viewer as they catch a glimpse of the outside world a handful of times. Clouds, mostly clouds, but then a red ship in the distance that has flickering lights that seems in sync with the shuddering of the ship. Cayde mutters something under his breath and suddenly the ship is diving – plunging down through the clouds, revealing gray and yellow land adorned with red plant life.

“Shields?”

“Forty percent and dropping-” an explosion from outside the craft sends the feed jolting to one side, disoriented again soo soon after the last. “Make that none, they just blew out an engine.” Another sharp mutter followed by a curse and another sharp jerk of the ship again. Cayde presses a few buttons on the console and Sundance informs him the chaff lures have worked. That should be a relief, but Cayde is still muttering colorfully and pressing buttons, maybe in hopes of something good happening. Instead, warning lights start blinking across it, a startled beeping harping along with it. Cayde’s eyes flick up to his partner.

“How much time do you think that bought us?”

“Not much, and we’re losing altitude too fast with only one engine left.”

“Yeah, I know,” he grumbles, shifting in the seat as the camera swings back to the view outside. They speak the truth because the landscape is approaching too quickly for comfort. “This is going to be rough!” 

A moment later the screen blurs, a cacophony of sounds grating against the mic at an ear-piercing volume that drowns out the shout from the Exo. With an explosion and a deafening smash the screen flicks to black and static echoes over the mic. Two seconds pass on the timer in the corner of the feed and then, finally, the log ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up with how Cayde got and then ended up stranded on Nessus was a fun little project.   
> Hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> Need you one Friday!


	10. Sterling Entry Log 28

The feed had been on for a few minutes now, the idle noises of the farm interrupted by the sound of metal being scraped along something hard in a steady beat. The view is amazing, high up enough to see everything around and watch the ice blue winter sky shoo gray clouds on their way. Down below, there’s the chatter of people milling about, planning, fixing, building, and fortifying their little haven just outside of the EDZ. Another prolonged swish of metal and Sterling turns, the camera panning and the view tightening in on the lone hunter sitting cross legged on the corrugated roof of the main barn.

Skylar doesn’t look up, her focus squarely on the task at hand as she moves one of her hunter’s knives across the rough side of a whetstone. It’s not the only one either; in total, nine different blades lay around her, though one or two are the iconic knives used only by her class. A hunter’s knife was used to kill of course, but out in the wild, where hunting for food and getting to better vantage points were a must, so the design of the blade had been created. Sharp all the way down, a three holed handle system for maneuvering it around one’s hand to achieve different grips, and at the very end, a gutting tool. Beside the two larger knives are a set of seven smaller knives, their blades light and their handles simple. Throwing knives didn’t need to be flashy after all, they just needed perfectly balanced craftsmanship.

Finally, Skylar takes the knife from the stone and wipes it with a rag before holding it up to the sun. Rays shimmer over the edge as if it were the horizon line – smooth and gently curved, not a single chip or dent in sight. Nodding her head in approval, she sets the knife down in the pile next to the small ones, the apparent ‘done pile’. Reaching for the mate of the former, she takes a moment to thread a finger through one of the handle holes and spin the weapon gently a few times, a small smile on her face.

The sound of someone popping the latch up onto the roof has Skylar quickly dropping the knife from its spin and catching it by the grip a moment later. Suraya Hawthorne pops her head out from the hole and spots her in second, before easily climbing up onto the roof almost as gracefully as any hunter. Her bird is nowhere to be found, and she seems oddly out of place without it. Still Skylar raises a brow in question as her fellow sniper walks over to her.

“What is it with you guys and heights? Didn’t know where to even start looking for you till Shaxx said ‘look up.’ Guess he knows you hunters well.” Her joke is edged in annoyance and her lips twitch as if she’s fighting a smile. The feed pans to the left, widening the field for a better profile view of the two women.

“That’s not exactly true,” Skylar mused, smirking slightly as if remembering something funny. “It really has to do with what we prefer to fight with. I like heights because I’m my team’s sniper. Z on the other hand is hardly ever anywhere besides the front lines of the ground. Not that we don’t change things up; my Light ability is close range after all, while his is medium.”

“I see… Your class is… interesting.”

“It’s not just our class you know. I mean sure, that’s what Hunters are known for but if you want to talk about someone who really likes heights and I mean  _ really _ likes heights, look no further than Haar.”

Suraya blinks at her in almost an exaggerated way, taking the information in slowly before shaking her head.

“The Titan? The one with the big, ornamented helmet that adds an extra half foot to him?”

“Like a beacon for all to see! We lovingly refer to him as ‘Broom Head’.” Skylar chuckles briefly at the human’s face, before turning back to her knife again. “So, what can I help you with?”

It’s clear that two women aren’t on the closest of terms, seeing as Skylar seems to know Hawthorn wouldn’t find her just to talk. Sighing, Suraya seems to get the message.

“I’m supposed to give you this. Shaxx said you need it. Something about an order you’d brought to him a while back.” She pulls a small brown package from under her poncho where one of her hands had been hidden and holds it out to the hunter. “Wouldn’t have guessed he could make something for battle.”

Skylar takes the package quickly, a look of delight on her face before she carefully sets her knife back down and starts unwrapping it.

“You’ll come to find out a lot of the older guardians have picked up hobbies to occupy themselves when they aren’t out fighting somewhere. Zavala likes to knit, Cayde gambles, and Ikora writes essays.” She rolls her eyes at the last part, as if to say, ‘typical warlock’. “Shaxx, as I found out, has a bit of blacksmithing in him.” Not a huge surprise, given his mentor was an Iron Lord.

“What about you?” At the question Skylar pauses, raising a brow at the other woman. Hawthorn shrugs. “I mean, do you have a hobby?”

“I’m not sure I’ve been alive long enough to be allowed a hobby,” she jokes with a small grin. Hawthorn gives her a strange look, brows pulling together. Skylar shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t normally have enough free time to do much, but…” She sets the package down in her lap, thinking. “I like… going into ruins, old cities, and buildings to see what I can find. Bookstores are my favorite, or libraries. I really enjoy the stories I find, that is if the book is legible or the data chip can be savaged.”

A hobby where she tries to dig up the past. It’s no wonder she’s an agent of the Hidden. She craves the past, the knowledge and creations of the Golden Age, as if to somehow piece together her own existence. Zavala would probably see it as dangerous and unhealthy. Ikora would probably encourage it. Suraya nods her head, apparently satisfied with that answer, but doesn’t ask any more on the subject and so Skylar returns to her package.

Paper undone, Skylar lifts out a new pair of arm guards. Chrome silver and simple, they aren’t made to stop much, but rather to hold something in place. At one end – the part near her wrist – stood a deadly looking blade, the hilt of the weapon fussed into the arm guard on a rotating locking mechanism, probably for when out of use. Carefully removing one of her well used guards, Skylar clips the new one into place with a grin. Flexing her hand and then clenching it, it’s obvious that the hilted blade reaches far past her knuckles. Far enough to turn a punch into a puncturing wound.

“He did a nice job,” she muses, impressed, before looking at Suraya who was watching her carefully and eyeing the weapons. “Not my own idea mind you. The original ones belong to a different hunter from a while ago, but I found the sketches in the archives and thought it might be useful. Changed a few things around, took out the snake motif. These aren’t finished it seems, but they’ll work well enough. Once this is all over, I’ll meet with Shaxx about the rest.” Her statement is true enough – while the armor will definitely work, it’s missing some of the finishing touches, leaving it rather spartan in its design. Hawthorn eyes them and then glances to the weapons around the hunter, a look of apprehension lighting her face.

“You carry an awful lot of blades,” she comments, brow raising in question. “I would think you’d want guns more often than not.” She’s curious, but hesitantly so, and Skylar hums, picking up the knife she was working on before and testing the edge.

“I suppose that does seem strange,” she agrees before shrugging her shoulders. “But for me, I can’t think of anything more reliable.”

“What do you mean?”

“Guns are good and all, but blades never jam, and they never run out of ammo.” Skylar flicks the blade a few feet into the air and the camera tracks it as it spins lazily once before dropping back into her waiting hand by the tip of its edge. Skylar looks at the other woman with a small smile. “Even if they go blunt, sharpening them is easier then loading nonexistent bullets.”

Hawthorn eyes her carefully, and it looks as if she might say something to that, but the sudden roar of engines turns both of their attentions and the camera to where they are looking. A starship has come into view – not an earth-bound cargo holder like before, but a space worthy vessel – the white and black paint on it marred and damaged. It’s large, probably meant for hauling supplies from planet to planet, outpost to outpost, and as it lands down in a field across the small creek in the Farm, there’s a clatter off screen.

“That’s my que,” Skylar murmurs, and the view returns to her as she methodically starts stowing her blades. Suraya watches quietly as she does so, crossing her arms over her poncho.

“You’re really going then?” That edge is back in her tone and Skylar pauses in slipping her last throwing knife into place on her belt to glance at her. “You’re just going to leave us here and go off to some planet?”

“It’s our job,” Skylar says plainly and maybe just a bit sarcastically. “If our commander is calling us to action, we can’t just ignore it.”

“But you’re lightless!” The snapped words have the amber haired hunter twitching, though it’s not clear whether it’s over the tone or the words themselves. Suraya gestures off screen back towards the ship and the screen pans back to it, finding Haar walking down the ship ramp to meet up with Z. “I don’t like that any of you are leaving, but at least I know they will be coming back – you don’t have that same guarantee. So why the hell are you going anyway?”

Below, Z laughs at something the Exo says while gesturing at their ride before Skylar’s audible sigh has the screen panning back to the two women. The hunter has stowed her last blade and is standing when things come back into focus.

“I’m not about to be left behind because of something like that,” she seems defiant, unbending in her answer. She refuses to be anything else than just as capable as her fireteam. “Besides, there’s someone I’ve got to find.” 

“How do you even know if this ‘Cayde’ is still alive? You’ve already found two dead clan members already, isn’t that en-” her words are cut short as the redhead suddenly whips around completely to face her with the speed only a hunter will ever have. She steps closer and even though they are around the same height, Skylar seems to tower over her, the deadly weapon she just acquired held still and ready in a half-bent arm drawn slightly back. Suraya freezes instantly, and the small, distressed sound Sterling makes is lost in the intensity of the golden orange eyes locked on her own. Skylar’s face is no longer joking, or kind, or even natural. It’s gone, replaced by a glare sharper then her knives. There’s anger there, but there’s also pain, something she’s been hiding so well up till now. It would seem certain subjects shouldn’t be breached. 

“You’ve got guts Hawthorn, it’s part of the reason I respect you.” Her voice is flat, icy in comparison to her sun colored hair. “But you need to remember when to take a step back. Just because my team has been helping you out, doesn’t mean you can order us around.” She steps closer, adjusting her arm so that the blade still doesn’t touch Hawthorn, but the deadly proximity to her side is still there, still possible in the clenched hand of the redhead’s temper. “It certainly doesn’t give you the right to tell me to give up on the person I care most about in this world without even looking. Would you do the same, if Devrim went missing?”

There’s no way of knowing if the threat of her knife is real or just a bluff, though it is a bit of a blindsiding turn of events. Skylar hardly ever loses her temper, hardly ever raises a hand towards anyone but enemies, though maybe that’s just because there aren't any recordings of it.

Maybe the worry, the grief, and the frustration have just boiled over.

To her credit, Hawthorn holds her ground, though the slightly shaky breath she lets out tells whoever is watching that she realizes she’s crossed a very visible line. Slowly, she holds up a hand, palm up and closes her eyes for a moment.

“I…” She takes in a deep breath and meets the hunter’s gaze again. “I’ve overstepped. That wasn’t my intention. I just... I don’t understand you guardians. You don’t act like the rest of us – you’re different.” There isn’t a lie in her words, but Skylar still holds her gaze for a few more seconds on the clock, before all at once, her glare breaks and she lets her arm relax at her side before sighing, a dejected look maring her face. It’s like she’s looking into the woman’s soul, a great sadness shifting her mood in an instant. It’s that barrier, that invisible line between guardians and who they protect – put on a pedestal they’d rather not have.

“We’re not,” she says softly, shaking her head. “You just see what you want to see in us.” Her words do nothing to change the look on Hawthorn’s face, a look one might find on a cornered cat, and Skylar doesn’t seem to think it worth it to try and change it either. Instead, she simply turns and jumps off the walkway, breaking her fall with a burst of air before landing below. The camera turns away from the startled human, and quickly zooms back in on the hunter, as Sterling follows her towards the ship. Her teammates greet her, and Haar gives her a worried look.

“You sure about this?” He’s concerned, but it’s more real, a worried friend looking out for a teammate, rather than Hawthorn’s lack of empathy. Skylar raises a brow at him, and he sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m not going to stop you, I just-”

“We can’t leave her here,” Z cuts in, walking up beside his fellow hunter. “I mean, who else will have our six? We need our sniper.”

Haar doesn’t say anything to that, but he doesn’t protest either, simply nodding his head. He was their titan – their shield. He would do what he needed to do to bring them home safe. With a pat on the Exo’s shoulder and an understanding look, Skylar motions to the ship.

“Let’s go find Mr. Wall, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hawthorn has always been a character I've never figured out if I liked or not, but it did always annoyed me that she thought she had the right to try and guilt trip us to stay. Apparently, Skylar didn't like that either. 
> 
> What do you guys think?
> 
> See you on Tuesday!


	11. Sundance Entry Log 203

“So, your name is ‘Failsafe’?” Cayde’s question comes through the feed before the image stabilizes, but once it does a rather unlikely scene is laid out before the viewer. It’s the inside of something — a building, a base, maybe even a ship — but whatever it is, it’s clearly been there a while. The metal walls and floor are caked with rust around every edge and bolt, and in some places the plating is gone, revealing bare wiring that sparks at odd moments. Towards the back of the room is some kind of interface or engine, a walkway leading up to it with whirring turbines on either side in the floor. Swiveling and changing position, Sundance places herself off to the side in order to get her partner and what he’s staring at in the frame. 

Cayde is standing before the walkway, eyeing the far wall with an expression that can only be described as curiosity, but his weary tone tells a different story. His question, oddly enough, has the far wall responding. A voice echoes around the room, the solid hexagon screen coming to life as it pulses with each syllable.

“ _ Yes _ ,” a smooth and rather cheery female voice replies, followed almost immediately by another that is far sadder and more annoyed than the first.

“ **Got a problem with that** ?” It sounds like a failing voice modulator for an exo, the pitches and dips seemingly random. Putting that to the side, it’s clear that what they are seeing is some kind of AI or biotic lifeform. Cayde raises his hands in a calming gesture, the set of his jaw showing bewilderment.

“No, no, just wanted to make sure.” He rubs at his neck with one hand, keeping the other in place. “Just seems rather uncreative.”

“ _ I am an AI built to safeguard my crew on the Exodus Black, which was tasked with exploration! _ ”

Cayde nods his head, relaxing slightly at the smoother voice.

“Hence the name. Makes sense.” He drops his hands, shifting his weight as he looks around the room again.

“ _ I was once known as ‘designation AI-COM/XBLK _ **_’!_ ** **”** The cheery voice states.

“ **But that’s quite the mouth full,** ” the somber one follows up with. Cayde fidgeted slightly, clearly uncomfortable with this development and giving the AI a small upward tilt of his jaw.

“When did your crew set off? Seems like you’ve been here a while.”

“ _ I am not completely sure, the centuries have begun to blend together with my long reaching solitude, it’s given me quite a bit to think about! _ ”

“Long time then,” he mutters, sympathy entering his voice, though the answer is rather easy to see with the shape of the ship they’re in. His gaze flicks off screen for a moment at a sound, but after a moment he seems to think nothing of it and returns his gaze forward again. “I guess I should be thanking you, I was in a pretty tight spot when you reached out.”

The lights on the brain of the AI blink in a small but precise sequence before answering him.

“ _ Your ghost was the first signal I had felt in a long time not counting those violent creatures outside! _ ”

“ **I was really lonely.** ”

Clearly, it’s the same AI, but the difference in tones and attitudes is still startling and the feed flickers once as the ghost blinks. Cayde clears his throat.

“Right, well, it’s nice to meet you Failsafe. My name is Cayde-6 and this is Sundance.” He gestures towards the camera. “It seems like we’re all in the same predicament now; I didn’t have any data saying the Fallen had shown up here. Puts quite the wrench in my plans.”

“ _ Indeed! I have remained undetected since they arrived here years ago, and now that you have led them to me, who knows what will happen! _ ”

“ **Something bad, I’m sure.** ”

A slightly nervous laugh and another clearing of his throat.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Maybe we can help each other out? I know how to deal with Fallen pretty well.” How well that would go without his powers is unknown but guessing from the lack of wounds or damage to his body from the battle that had apparently occurred, it at least seems he can still shoot rather well.

“ _ It would be most appreciated, Cayde unit! _ ”

“ **Since it’s kind of your fault and all.** ”

“Hey, I didn’t exactly have much of a choice you know! Besides, throwing around blame won’t help anyway.” His words are sharper, as if he’s losing patience a lot quicker than normal. With how things have been for him as of late, no one can really blame him. About thirty seconds tick by on the clock where no one says anything, his words seeming to have shut the AI up as she runs more patterns through the lights on her frontal core. 

“ _ There appears to be a leader among the group outside _ ,” Failsafe speaks up suddenly. “ _ Maybe if you kill him, the rest will flee! _ ” Somehow the cheery voice talking about death is just a bit on the creepy side, but Cayde seems to take it in stride this time, perhaps slowly becoming used to it.

“Consider it taken care of,” he muses, reaching down and pulling his Ace of Spades from its holster. He holds it up in front of him, checking the weapon over. “While I’m doing that, maybe you can help me with why I came here in the first place?”

Another few moments on the feed of nothing but blinking lights.

“ _ What is it I can help you with, Cayde unit?” _ The new nickname gets a sigh from the exo, but he doesn’t comment on it. She’s the only ally he’s got on this planetoid, and if putting up with weird personalities and names will keep things positive, he’ll do it. He takes a moment to feed a new cartage of ammo into his gun as he speaks, checking over a few minor things he doesn’t really need to, as if to distract himself.

“I’m looking for a certain kind of Vex tech. Have you heard of them?”

“ _ Do you mean the hivemind of inorganics trying to transform this planetoid? Yes! I have intercepted quite a few of their transmissions over the years. They are very efficient! _ ”

“ **Like, almost too efficient.** ”

“Yeah, they like doing that,” Cayde grumbles, perhaps remembering what they’ve done to Mercury and what they are doing to Venus. “Anyway, I’m looking for a piece of tech that will help me get on a ship I normally can’t reach. Over the years, several of my scouts have told me about seeing something like a teleporter in the denser portions of Vex controlled spaces.” Finally, he looks back at the AI unit’s brain module. “Can you help me find one here?”

“ _ It is possible, but it might take a while, the Vex have created quite a network over the past century of occupation here! _ ”

Cayde’s shoulder slumps slightly, disappointed about the amount of time before he shakes his head.

“It’s faster than me running all over the place,” he reminds himself out loud, hand gripping his gun tighter before letting it fall to his side. “Just do what you can, Failsafe.” He seems ready to leave, already half turning away before the AI stops him with a question.

“ _ Why does the Cayde unit want the device? It seems rather dangerous! _ ”

“ **And foolish.** ”

The hunter doesn’t turn to face her again and the camera pans to float in front of him instead of from the side. He isn’t looking forward, but rather down towards the ground, his eyes dimming at his own thoughts.

“There’s a lot going on right now,” he tells her, not really giving her much to go on. “There’s something I need to do, something only I can do, and I have to do it. It’s the only way I’ll get any kind of closure.” The way he says the last sentence, it's clearly not directed towards the AI, and is quiet enough that the feed almost doesn’t catch it. It’s a promise to himself, a promise he can’t break as his free hand brushes across the second holster at his hip that is currently occupied, unlike its brother. “I really need your help with this.” At first, it would seem obvious that he’s speaking to the AI behind him this time — because really, he does need their help — but the way he says it seems to be for someone else. It’s the soft pleading tone he normally uses for certain people, ones he keeps close, and perhaps he is asking for their help, their strength in this task, even though they're gone.

A few more second pass in silence and then:

“ _ I will help the best I can! _ ”

“ **Let’s hope it’s enough.** ”

The vanguard leader huffs slightly, eyes brightening back to normal as he raises a hand over his shoulder in a half-assed wave.

“I’m counting on you! While you do that, I'll remind the fallen why it’s not best to not mess with a guardian - especially this one.” There’s grim satisfaction in his voice as he strides off without another word, not waiting for an answer from the AI or his ghost. He doesn’t even look at the feed as he passes it. His gaze is set forward, towards an ever-looming goal, dangerous as it may be.

Clearly, failure is not an option. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Failsafe is pretty fun to right :)
> 
> See you on Friday!


End file.
